According To You
by Brittney373
Summary: Songfic - Scorpius wants to know why Rose is dating Scamander. "...Unlike you, he's always made me feel appreciated. He's always made me feel special.Unlike you, he's never pretended to hate me simply to gain my attention. I mean, who does that?"


**A/N: Okay. So, yet another songfic! This one is still Rose/Scorpius, I'm not quite tired of writing about them yet! The song's According To You, by Orianthi. I was listening to it one day and yeah, it just seemed to scream a Rose/Scorp fanfic to me... Anywhoo, enjoy! :D And please, read and review! (Or just read if you want...whatever tickles your fancy! But I do appreciate some concrit, just to keep me on my toes!) Thanks a bunch! .xx**

_**Disclaimer:**_** I think we all know this already, but Harry Potter and related characters do not belong to me and there is no copyright infringement intended with this fic. Also, I have absolutely nothing to do with the song "According To You" by Orianthi. :D**

**

* * *

**

I turned the page of my Herbology textbook, searching for something useful to include in my half-completed essay for Professor Longbottom. Studying wasn't going so well, though. Although it was rather late, and I was currently in the deserted library, my thoughts were constantly drifting off the page from a rather ghastly looking plant to a rather attractive pale-haired boy.

I am still uncertain of my true feelings for this boy. In our four months of being together, neither has mentioned the 'L-word'. I think it perhaps is due to the fact that neither of us wants to ruin what we have. And I know that might sound ridiculous, but we have been friends for a long time, and I would hate to see that ruined by our newfound romantic relationship. It's not that I couldn't see myself _ever_ loving this boy, no. It's more that, it feels too comfortable, our relationship. It seems as though we haven't transitioned from a friendship to something more. And I still feel that way for him. I still feel as I always have about him. I mean, yes, he is undoubtedly attractive, and a large population of girls do flatter him constantly, and I do feel strongly for him, but I've never felt that _something._ Not yet, at least. I could grow to have such feelings. I hope.

And no. This pale haired wonder and object of my affections is _not_ Scorpius Malfoy. Despite the fact that he and I do not argue and fight as much as we used to, I don't think he would ever like me, let alone have romantic feelings toward me. Although this should elate me, it doesn't. For a long time I had romantic feelings for that slick git. And once, the one time he'd actually smiled genuinely at me, I felt that _something_. The memory still frightens me. Poor Lysander Scamander, my current boyfriend, has no hope if he can't make me feel that _something_ with a gentle touch and passionate kiss, when all Malfoy had to do was smile.

But I can't dwell on such things. I am with Lysander now, and Malfoy could never be so kind. That is why I continue to ignore my lingering feelings for the git. Lysander deserves the chance of me falling in love with him. He accepts me just as I am, he likes me and I'm quite certain _loves_ me, faults included. And that is why I never acted upon my feelings for Scorpius Malfoy, or why I probably never will. He has never shown an ounce of anything except for disdain for me. And as much I loathe myself for feeling this way even now, it hurts. Scorpius Malfoy has always been anything but nice to me, why should I allow my feelings for him prevent me from loving someone who I'm quite certain loves me?

_**According to you**_

_**I'm stupid, I'm useless, I can't do anything right**_

_**According to you**_

_**I'm difficult, hard to please, forever changing my mind**_

As if conjured by my thoughts, Scorpius Malfoy slinked over to my current study cariole in the library. _Why_ in Merlin's name, did he _have_ to annoy me and taunt me? Why couldn't he just ignore me like he used to? Why couldn't he just call me a dirty half-blood Weasley and get it over and done with? Why couldn't he tell me he hated me so I could finally hate him back like I so desperately desire to? If only I had such luck.

"You do realise, Weasley, that you're kind of breaking school rules being here so late. I could deduct house points, you know?" he smirked as he sat down across from me.

I sighed, closing my book with a loud thump. My only way to get rid of him would be to argue and storm off. "What do you want Malfoy?"

"Oh, nothing really. I was just doing my Prefect's rounds."

I raised a brow at him; no-one did Prefects rounds alone. "By yourself, Malfoy? Surely Alice Longbottom didn't roster you on alone for patrols? She may be blonde, but she is Head Girl, after all. She wouldn't do such a daft thing."

He smirked now. The smirk that all the girls fell for. The smirk that I had fallen for.

"You're quite stupid yourself Weasley. Even a little useless."

"Excuse me?" I huff out indignantly, standing up to emphasise my point. As I do this however, I knock over my ink well and ink runs all over my pitiful Herbology essay. Great.

Malfoy's smirk widens now, "I said – you are rather useless and stupid. And, it seems to me that you just can't do anything right. Not even your displays of indignation."

That is it! I _will_ hex him. "Shut it, Malfoy. Just shut it, okay? I don't need your rubbish, not now, not ever. Just sod off, will you?"

"And why would I do that?"

"Because," I pointed a finger at him threateningly, "I will hex your most prized jewels if you don't!"

"You think my jewels are prize-worthy, do you?" he grinned, though in the most unpleasant way. I almost exploded on the spot. How did he always manage to turn my words around on me?

"No. I do not. I think you as a whole are rather un-prize worthy. In fact, quite worthless, full-stop, end of story."

"Sure Weasley, make up your mind won't you? You either like my jewels or you don't. I mean, there's no harm in admitting it. A lot of girls have."

"Urgh. You are insufferable! Excuse me while I leave before my brain spasms from all the stupidity it is currently deciphering."

Without a glance at the idiotic boy in front of me, I gathered my things and stormed from the library. Just as I had planned.

_**I'm a mess in a dress, can't show up on time**_

_**Even if it would change my life**_

_**According to you**_

_**According to you**_

It was Tuesday night. I was quite certain that I had Prefects duties tonight, patrolling. What I wasn't certain of, however, was who I was patrolling with. The Head's, some years ago, had decided that patrol pairs shouldn't be of the same house, in order to reinforce the idea of house unity. That meant I could be patrolling with anyone. Anyone. A thought suddenly occurred to me, accompanied by a lurching in my stomach. That meant I could be patrolling with – Malfoy. I had been rostered on with him several times before, and it wouldn't surprise me if Alice Longbottom had temporarily lost her mind and done it again. I checked the time, which indicated that I should have been patrolling five minutes ago. Reluctantly, I left my place by the warm fire, the warmth of Lysander's embrace.

I looked down at him as I stood up. "Hey, you wouldn't happen to know who I'm patrolling with tonight, would you?"

Initially, he smiled, probably at my forgetfulness. Then a wash of realisation came over his face, and his expression turned to one of distaste, "Yeah, that git Malfoy."

Great. Simply superb. Just my luck. I bent down to kiss his mouth sweetly before standing up once more, "Well, I should go. Get it over with."

I heard Lysander call out just as I was at the portrait hole, "I'll wait up for you, yeah?"

"Yeah!"

I stepped out of the portrait hole to find myself face-to-face with Malfoy. Had he never heard of personal space?

"You, Weasley, are," he pushed back the sleeve of his robe to check his watch, "six minutes and approximately fourteen seconds late."

I pushed him back, out of my way, "And you, Malfoy, are an annoying git who doesn't understand the concept of personal space. Let's just get on with this, shall we?"

I started off down the corridor quickly, hoping he would get the hint to leave me alone. I really didn't need this now. I had just spent the better half of my night with Lysander, still unable to feel that _something_ for him. The fact that I was now in the company of Scorpius Malfoy, alone, didn't help that situation. Unfortunately, not five seconds after my abandonment, Malfoy fell into step beside me.

"So, why were you late, Weasley? In there snogging Scamander were you?"

I considered lying, telling him that I was, in fact, studying. But, I knew that Lysander and Malfoy had always despised one another, which was regretfully another reason I'd started dating the former. So, I decided to tell the truth, knowing that it would most likely irritate Malfoy.

"Not that it's any of your business, yes." I had an idea and turned my face to smirk at him, "I was rather enjoying the feel of his lips on mine and his hands on my – "

Malfoy cut me off, his face a mask of distaste, "Don't. Do _not_ complete that sentence. I have no desire to hear about Scamander and his manky hands on your – your, yeah."

I raised my brow at him. Why did he look regretful? Why did he look as if it hurt him to know about where Lysander's hands touched my body?

"Oh really? And why is that?"

Rather than answering me, he asked me with a blank expression that was surprisingly sincere, "Why are you dating him Rose?"

What? He used my first name! Never, in our six years of schooling, had he used my first name.

"Why do you think, Malfoy? I like him, he likes me."

"But he's a git. He's just another arrogant 'I'm so brave and chivalrous' Gryffindor."

I snorted rather unattractively, "You ought to talk! Slytherins are the biggest prats in the school. And besides, Lysander likes me just the way I am. He likes everything about me." I almost added, 'unlike some'.

"Oh, he does, does he? What does he tell his precious Rosie?" he practically spat at me, his face darkening. What in Merlin's name had brought this on? If I didn't know any better, I'd think Malfoy was jealous.

_**But according to him**_

_**I'm beautiful, incredible; he can't get me out of his head**_

_**According to him**_

_**I'm funny, irresistible, everything he ever wanted**_

_**Everything is opposite**_

_**And I don't feel like stopping it**_

_**So, baby, tell me what I got to lose**_

_**He's into me for everything, not**_

_**According to you**_

Again, I didn't voice my opinion, as it would only encourage Malfoy and his pathetic taunts. Instead I replied, "First of all, do _not_ call me Rosie. And secondly, not that it's any of your business what Lysander does or doesn't tell me; he tells me I'm beautiful."

Malfoy scoffed, "Is that it? That's why you're dating him, because he tells you you're beautiful? Merlin, Rose, anyone can tell a girl she's beautiful."

He definitely seemed jealous now. "No!" I defended, "That's not the only reason I'm dating him. Like I already told you, he likes everything about me. I make him laugh; he says he's constantly thinking about me. He –" I hesitated, not entirely sure whether I should continue, for Malfoy was looking at me rather intently. I continued anyway, "He tells me that I'm everything he ever wanted in a girl."

Malfoy scowled. "Again, anyone could tell you all that Rose. That's not really anything special. I still don't see why you're dating him."

That was it. "Because, Malfoy, I feel like it! Because I like him and he makes me feel special, he makes me laugh and he makes me forget all the horrible things you say to me!"

Shit. Did I really just let him know that he gets to me?

Malfoy's face, unbelievably, paled. "I don't say horrible things to you," he said in deadly calm voice, "and when I do, I don't mean them. Surely you know that. I mean the opposite really."

"You don't say horrible things to me? Really? Would you like me to tell you some of the cruel things you've told me over the years?"

Malfoy's face remained pale and looked a little on the greenish side. Why was this bothering him so much? He never minded being cruel any other time, why start now?

I dispelled these questions and continued my tirade whilst Malfoy was staring at me with an expression I could not read.

_**According to you**_

_**I'm boring, I'm moody, and you can't take me any place**_

_**According to you**_

_**I suck at, telling jokes, 'cause I always give it away**_

_**I'm the girl with the worst attention span**_

_**You're the boy who puts up with that**_

_**According to you**_

_**According to you**_

"Right, so, let's start with the fact that, according to you, my hair looks as though my owl lives in it. Secondly, oh yeah, I do believe this is one of your favourite insults – I'm a 'boring book worm who wouldn't know what fun is if it bit me on the arse'. Oh yeah, let's add to that the fact that you think, just because I don't find it pleasing to converse with someone who is constantly insulting me, I'm a 'moody bint who you could never be prevailed upon to take out in public'. Is that enough of a list of cruel things you've said yet?"

Malfoy was gazing at me intently now, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. I could tell I was hurting him by recounting these things, but I was going to make him pay for all the times he made me cry over the years with his horrible insults. I would never admit how much he'd hurt me, never admit the fact that for a long time I'd fancied the pants off him, never admit that some of those feelings still lingered, but I certainly would make him pay. He would pay for hurting me.

I raised my brow at him. "No? Not enough? Okay, I'll add just a few more to refresh your memory, shall I? Well, there's the fact that you don't find my wry sense of humour in any way funny. Not that I care what you think, but you just have to make some smart-arse comment about how pathetic my jokes are, don't you? Yeah. And what about you telling me I'm such a ditz? How I can never pay attention to anything for more than five seconds? Like I have some exceptionally poor attention span or something, and you're the one who has to deal with it? Well I don't! I don't do any of those things, and I'm not any of those things! And you have no right, _no bloody right_ to stick your long ferrety nose into anything that has to do with me! Alright?"

I took in a much needed breath. I didn't think I'd ever been so worked up in my life. My feelings of hurt that had been building up for the pale git over the years had finally exploded from my system. Malfoy looked as though he'd been Confunded. It was then that I realised we were no longer walking, but had stopped in the middle of the Charms corridor. I had taken a rather authoritative stance over Malfoy, whilst he had shrunken back; it was almost comical, considering he towered over me in height.

It was now he decided he should – could – speak.

* * *

_**But according to him**_

_**I'm beautiful, incredible; he can't get me out of his head**_

_**According to him**_

_**I'm funny, irresistible, everything he ever wanted**_

_**Everything is opposite**_

_**And I don't feel like stopping it**_

_**So, baby, tell me what I got to lose**_

_**He's into me for everything, not**_

_**According to you**_

_**

* * *

**__**I needa feel appreciated**_

_**Now, not hated**_

_**Oh, no**_

_**Why can't you see me through his eyes?**_

_**It's too bad you're making me dizzy**_

His expression transitioned rapidly from confusion to derision, his pale cheeks flushed.

"Well, it's true! You can't deny the fact that your hair – as beautifully red as it is – is constantly a mess! You're always reading a bloody book; your jokes aren't jokes – they're sarcastic insults. And you never pay attention to anything I say or do unless we're arguing – I have to deal with that! You never talk to me unless we're arguing, why do you think I argue with you? Why can't you just talk to me?"

I was dumbfounded to say the least. Was he really asking me that? Was he really that dim-witted, or was he just trying to anger me further?

"_Why can't I just talk to you?_ Because," I poked him in the chest now, "there is no talking with you. You're either insulting me or making obscenely inappropriate remarks about an alternative use for my mouth! How do you expect me to react? What, do you want me to giggle and flick my hair then snog the pants off you?" I raised my brow in incredulity to emphasise the absolute peculiarity of this question.

"Yes! That's _exactly_ what I want you to do!" he screamed in my face. As soon as the words left his mouth, his face was a mask of shock and realisation, something that I was sure was mirrored in my expression.

"What?"

He sighed in defeat, his cheeks flushing once more, "I said yes. I want you to snog the pants off me. I wish you weren't dating Scamander. Why are you dating him Rose?"

I was simply exhausted. This argument, fight, whatever it was, was making me incredibly lightheaded. He wanted me to snog the pants off him? I wonder how long he's wanted me to do that. It was hopeless to wonder such things, however, for I was dating Lysander Scamander, and I couldn't hurt him simply to comply with the wishes of an arrogant git who I'd once fancied. Perhaps there were indeed some lingering feelings, but they would not and could not jeopardise what I had with Lysander.

"I've already told you why, Malfoy. Unlike you, he's always made me feel appreciated. He's always made me feel special. Unlike you, he's never pretended to hate me simply to gain my attention. I mean, who does that?"

Malfoy was still pink-cheek, staring at me yet again with an expression I could not read. It really was frustrating. It seemed as though he wasn't going to answer when he said, rather stupidly, "Me, I guess. That's who, me."

_**But according to me**_

_**You're stupid, you're useless, you can't do anything right**_

That was it. I was tired of his games, his ridiculous comments and his hold over me. There would be no more, this would end now. I was at my wits end. If anything could have put a stopper on my lingering feelings for him, it was his revelation that he argued with me simply to gain my attention. What an idiotic concept!

I drew myself to my full height, taking an authoritative stance once more. "Well, Malfoy, you know what? You are a fucking idiot! You have the hide to go around calling me stupid – well you're the daft one here! Seriously, the only idea you had in order to talk to me was to insult me? What a ridiculous notion! Ever heard of civilised conversation and a little flattery? That sort of thing generally works. And you're the useless one! You couldn't even manage civilised words and manners in order to get my attention. _You_ are the one who can't do anything right! You, not me! Urgh. You're so frustrating! I can't believe I actually fancied you! Thank goodness I never acted upon my feelings. I'm done here."

I simply could not be around him any longer, or it may become detrimental to my health. It was evident upon his blanched features that I'd wounded him deeply with my sharp tongue, but I was justified in my actions. Perhaps he'd learn that he couldn't always get his way, he couldn't have everything he wanted, and he certainly couldn't win me over with his arguing and good looks.

_**But according to him**_

_**I'm beautiful, incredible; he can't get me out of his head**_

_**According to him**_

_**I'm funny, irresistible, everything he ever wanted**_

_**Everything is opposite**_

_**And I don't feel like stopping it**_

_**So, baby, tell me what I got to lose**_

_**He's into me for everything, not**_

_**According to you**_

I turned on my heel and headed back to the Common Room – back to Lysander. Back to the boy who liked me – perhaps even loved me – for who I was completely, and knew how to show me that, how to express it with kind and caring words. Rather than the reversed, double-meaning shit that Malfoy thought was charming. It still baffled me how he thought I'd ever think he wanted me to snog him because he insulted and taunted me. True, I _had_ wanted to do just that. But that was before I'd realised just how good Lysander was for me. I wouldn't jeopardise that. Although I know I hurt him, I did the right thing in putting Malfoy in his place. Perhaps now he'd understand _why_ I am dating Lysander – because he likes me for me and for no other reason, not according to the arrogant, pale-faced git, Scorpius Malfoy.

_**According to you**_

_**I'm stupid, I'm useless; I can't do anything right **_


End file.
